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Josh opens the door and finds God using the Thigh-Master. God is so embarassed the device slips out of his manly, supple thighs and rockets across the room. Josh has time to notice the Justin Timberlake posters on the wall before being knocked out by the flying device. Josh wakes up on a spare couch. God looks over, next to a paused video game. "Good!" he said. "It worked. You're all healed now. Now please go away." Josh felt better then ever. No head pains, no hacking lungs, no liver damage, no spleed overload and definitely no lingering Vicodin addiction.
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12/30/2005 12:38:42 AM
Extending Enabled
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